


Thighs and Watermelons

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Food Sex, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Sunburn, draco does physical labour, portkeys gone awry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-01
Updated: 2005-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written during one of McTabby's Blame Each Other ficfests in 2005, to ella_bane's prompt "Ron/Draco: the boys work on a watermelon farm." So, yeah. It's pre-Deathly Hallows crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thighs and Watermelons

**Author's Note:**

> The title and epigraph are from "Scotland" by Robert Crawford.

  
__

Glebe of water, country of thighs and watermelons  
In seeded red slices, bitten by a firthline edged  
With colonies of skypointing gannets,  
You run like fresh paint under August rain.

  


"For the five hundredth time, Malfoy, I did not know it was a Portkey!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "How the side of Light is winning this war, I do not understand. Do you pick up every shiny object that distracts you, Weasley? Is your Animagus form a magpie?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Ron used the hem of his once-white t-shirt to wipe his brow. It was hot out here in this watermelon field, wherever it was. "What were you doing holding onto me, anyway?"

Draco reclined between the rows of vines, picking fat worms from the plant stems and dropping them into a bucket of kerosene. "We should just Apparate back. You _can_ Apparate by now, can't you?"

"Yes," said Ron shortly, picking up his hoe. There wasn't much grass here, what with the black plastic mulch between the plants, but he idly scratched at the damp, dark dirt. 

They worked in silence for a while, moving slowly. The sun rose higher. The strange wizened man they'd met in the warehouse that morning drove past in a truck, dropping off a bag of sandwiches and a jug of cool water at the end of the row.

"I think he twinkled at us," Ron said.

"Twinkled?" Draco shuddered. "Dumbledore's dead, Weasley. I had hoped never to hear of anyone twinkling again."

"Yeah, he _is_ dead, Malfoy. Know anything about that?"

"Shut it, Weasley," Draco said, his voice tired. "We've gone over that. I'm on your side now, remember?"

"Sorry." Ron flopped down between the rows. "Habit, you know?"

"Yeah." Draco unwrapped a sandwich and took a tentative bite, then put it down. "Ugh. Peanuts." 

Ron shrugged and took the rejected sandwich. "You have to eat something, Malfoy. You'll faint otherwise." Draco made a rude noise and went back to picking worms. 

Ron finished his sandwich, putting the others in the shady row along with the water, then started hoeing again. _Wonder how much longer we're stuck here. That fellow seemed to know us - at least he was a lot less startled than he had rights to be, two blokes appearing from nowhere in the middle of a busy barn at sunrise. He_ did _twinkle, I'm sure of it. Maybe he was just happy to get some extra hands on the job. He handed over that hoe and bucket fast enough._

The sun shifted across the cloudless bright sky as they worked. As it started to slip toward the horizon, the battered truck appeared again, rumbling along the edge of the field. The farmer climbed out and walked down the row toward them. Both Ron and Draco stood, warily watching him. He stopped a few paces away, hands in his overall pockets, and considered them.

 _Definitely a twinkler_ , thought Ron.

"Well, boys," said the man, "I'll admit that I didn't think two of Albus Dumbledore's soft young fellows would last the day here, though the sun's had her way with both of you."

Draco blinked. "You know Dumbledore?"

"Once I did," the farmer said. "Heard he'd died. Sorry for that - he was a hell of a wizard, and an even better card player." 

"Who are you?"

The man laughed. "Fair enough. Name's Pickford." He waved across the wide farmlands. "This's my place - finest watermelons in America, and that's the truth."

"And you're a wizard," said Ron cautiously.

Pickford nodded. "Mostly crop and animal magic, but I keep up the melons for a hobby." He turned back toward the truck, beckoning them to follow. From the truck bed, he pulled a tent and a small box of food. "Afraid I can't put you up at the house. The wife never liked Dumbledore, and she didn't know he had a Portkey to the barns."

"We can just Apparate back, Mr. Pickford," Draco said.

"Not from here, you can't. Wards everywhere. I don't just grow melons, boys." He winked and climbed into the truck. "You can wash up in the pond if you want. In the morning, I'll drive you fellows down the road a ways, past the wards. You can Apparate back from there." He started the truck and drove away in a plume of dust.

Ron and Draco looked at each other. "How bizarre," said Draco.

"Got it in one, mate," Ron said. He picked up the box and looked around. "Over by those trees, I think. I don't fancy sleeping out in the open."

Draco nodded and picked up the tent, following Ron to the treeline. They worked quietly, unrolling the old canvas tent and hammering its stakes into the dirt. Ron found two tiny sleeping bags tucked in with the stakes and restored them to full size. Draco Transfigured the tent's carrying bag into a soft mattress that covered the floor of the shelter.

"Good enough for one night," said Ron. He dug into the box of food.

"Not more sandwiches," Draco muttered. "Merlin, please."

"Roast chicken," said Ron, "and some other things I don't recognize." He flipped the box upside down and spread the food on top. They both dove into their supper, quickly finishing everything except the watermelon that Pickford had shrunk to the size of a marble. "He expects us to eat watermelon after today? Raving loony."

Draco chuckled. "He's a friend of Dumbledore's, Weasley. What did you expect?" He leaned over and picked up a small plastic tube that had fallen unnoticed. "Sun cream. Bit late for that." 

Ron climbed to his feet. "Let's go, Malfoy. You could use a wash." He ignored the chicken bone as it hit his shoulder, and set off toward the barn.

It was a simple farm pond with a small dock, but it looked fine to Ron. He stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, then unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down. He could hear Draco's clothes hit the dock but didn't bother to turn. Nothing he hadn't seen in the locker room or prefect's washroom. Instead, he jumped into the cool muddy water, sinking to the smooth clay bottom and pushing his way back to the surface. "Come on, Malfoy. No squid."

Draco stood on the dock, watching Ron splutter and splash. Ron wondered how he could stand to cross his arms with sunburn that angry. He swam closer, throwing water onto Malfoy's long pale legs. Draco smirked and jumped in, landing close enough to Ron to drag him back down to the bottom of the pond. They wrestled a bit on their way back up, then broke apart and floated on the surface, watching the first stars begin to shine. Eventually Draco's stomach grumbled loudly enough for Ron to hear. Draco swam over to the dock and pulled himself up, drying off with his shirt. Ron did the same. They both hopped as they tried to get their jeans and shoes back on over wet skin, then headed back to the campsite with shirts in hand.

After the swim, Ron was ravenous. He restored the shrunken watermelon to its normal size, then sliced it with a tap of his wand. He took one of the slices and sat back against a tree, spitting seeds idly into the dirt. "Come on then, Malfoy, or is watermelon too messy for your fine Slytherin sensibilities?"

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbed a slice, and sank to the ground next to the same tree. "My sensibilities have been offended since the moment we arrived here." He flicked a seed at Ron. "You're going to glow in the dark tonight, Weasley, with that sunburn."

"Speak for yourself, Malfoy." Ron appraised Draco's arms, painfully red. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"A bit," admitted Draco. He ate some more melon, the juice dripping onto his chest.

Ron knelt up, pulling his wand from his waistband. "Seven kids, y'know? Healing charms come easy." He moved to straddle Draco's knees, laughing at his startled reaction. "Calm down, Malfoy. I'm not assaulting you."

Draco stilled as Ron murmured quiet spells. "Not bad, Weasley. Takes the sting out." He reached for his own wand and held it up, a questioning look on his face.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Thanks." He stayed knelt over Draco, willing himself to stay still as the tingle of magic whispered across his flaming arms and neck, as he watched the thick globule of watermelon juice slip down Draco's chest, as he forced away the thoughts that came into his mind every time he saw Draco's pointy little face, as he stubbornly refused to think about Draco standing on the pond dock, lean and naked and pale except for the angry red sunburn.

"Weasley. All right there?" Draco's voice had just an edge of warm laughter. One of his hands was steadying Ron's hip - when had that happened?

Ron figured he probably looked ridiculous, holding himself so rigidly, and he let himself relax with a grin, sitting down on Draco's knees. "Sorry. Not used to you casting healing spells on me, that's all."

Draco smiled - an honest smile, Ron thought, which was rare indeed. "Same here. I was worried it might be _Tarantellegra_ for a minute, which would be the ultimate cruelty. Sunburned and dancing." He assumed a thoughtful look. "Though it's a good idea. The next time I see Finch-Fletchley..."

"What have you got against Justin?" Ron reached over and took the last two slices of melon, handing one to Draco.

Draco bit into his melon, spat out two seeds, and shrugged. "Bastard cheated on me with Seamus Finnegan."

"Malfoy, that was nearly two years ago! You're not over it yet?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "How did you know that, Weasley? It wasn't exactly common-room knowledge."

Ron could feel the blush growing brighter. "Well -" In his confusion, he dropped his watermelon on Draco's chest. When he reached for it, Draco grabbed his wrists, locking them in place.

"I didn't know you had a thing for Justin, Weasley." Draco's voice was low and quiet, and Ron nearly had to lean in to hear him. "Or Seamus."

"No." Ron sighed. "Right, this is mortifying. I'll just volunteer for scout duty when we get back, and maybe a troll will sit on me."

Draco smiled again. Ron's stomach did a neat trick that would have won points at the Wizarding Games. "Why, Ronald, should I be flattered?"

Ron frowned and bounced on Draco's knees, just hard enough to hurt. "It was a long time ago, Malfoy. I've moved on."

"Have you? Too bad. I haven't." Draco pulled one hand from Ron's wrists, wrapping the other more securely in place. He reached up slowly, touching Ron's cheek, that maddening soft smile firmly in place. "You have a seed stuck just here, Weasley."

Ron's chest tightened as Draco's fingertips brushed his cheek, peeling the sticky seed from his skin. The seed fell to the ground unnoticed as Draco trailed his fingers across Ron's mouth. _Oh, what the hell. I'll Obliviate us both later,_ Ron thought, leaning forward just enough to capture Draco's fingers in his lips. He was delighted by Draco's tiny whimper in response.

"Watermelon's messy stuff, Malfoy." Ron pasted his most serious look across the grin that was threatening to take over his face. "You've got juice all over your chest." He leaned down as far as he could, past his hands still held captive, and licked a broad swath across Draco's chest: sweat and grit and a weird scummy taste that was probably pondwater all blended together with the overwhelming sweetness of watermelon. It wasn't any worse than Bill and Fleur's soup, Ron thought, turning happily to his task.

Somewhere in the process, Draco slumped away from the tree, pulling Ron down on top of him into the soft bed of pine needles. Ron grinned as he licked up the last few trails of juice, then rested his head on Draco's stomach. "Sorry you've not moved on from Justin, Malfoy."

"Prat. Not Justin. You." Draco wound his fingers into Ron's hair and yanked. Ron slid upward obediently, hovering on hands and knees. "I'm just going to Obliviate us both later, so you might as well know."

Ron laughed. "Not if I Obliviate us first." He lowered his face, pressing his lips to Draco's. The soft politeness of his kiss soon dissolved into hungry desire, tongues entwined and lips sliding together. Ron sank down onto Draco, no longer trying to hide his erection. He wasn't surprised to find matching hardness against his thigh. He was surprised, though, when Draco rolled away long enough to find the discarded watermelon, then rolled back to smash it methodically into pulp.

"Awfully sorry, Weasley," said Draco in a husky whisper. "I'm afraid I've gotten you rather dirty."

Ron tried to look concerned. "It's a dreadful mess, Malfoy."

Draco nodded solemnly, then bent to his task, licking away the pink mush and viscous pale juice that ran across Ron's chest and arms. He lifted each of Ron's arms in turn, carefully flicking his tongue across the reddened skin and up to the pale whiteness protected by Ron's shirt. Ron moaned quietly as Draco cleaned him, paying unnecessary attention to his nipples and collarbone.

Too soon, the kisses stopped. Ron looked up to see Draco silhouetted against the deep purple summer dusk. "Something wrong?"

Draco shook his head, then sighed. "Truth, Weasley? I'd never imagined this without fighting. Your willing participation has destroyed my strategy."

Ron chuckled, then pushed Draco off his lap and stood up, holding out his hand. "I'll be even more willing without those damn needles sticking into me." He hauled Draco upright and resumed kissing him, hands drifting down across Draco's arse and pulling him closer. He laughed softly as Draco did the same to him.

"Tent," Draco whispered.

Ron nodded and stumbled toward the entrance. Draco hung back for a moment, then followed. They tumbled onto the mattress that Draco had conjured earlier, kisses growing hungrier and hands more insistent. Ron reached for Draco's waistband, grinning as he realized Draco had the same intention. "Off. Now."

They both unbuttoned and unzipped quickly, peeling the denim from their still-damp skin. Jeans went flying as Ron rolled back into Draco's arms. He wiggled just a bit until he got his cock exactly where he wanted it, snuggled into the crevice of Draco's thigh and tucked under his sac. Draco reached down and pushed his own cock firmly between their stomachs, then began rocking his hips slowly.

"Careful, Malfoy. I'm not going to last long."

"Me either," Draco said, "but who cares?" He rocked harder, kissing Ron in a way that suggested he was executing a plan he'd studied for a long time. It wasn't long until Ron felt Draco shudder, then warm wetness pulse between them. He let himself follow, one hand clamped onto Draco's arse as he came.

They lay quietly together for a while until Draco raised himself up on one elbow. He traced Ron's collarbone with his finger, trailing it down his chest. "You keep getting dirty, Weasley."

"So do you, Malfoy." Ron folded himself down and began to lick Draco clean again. He was amused that he could tell the difference between his come and Draco's, and not just from the location. Draco's was nicer, he decided. Maybe it was the watermelon.

"What are you giggling about?" 

"Nothing much." Ron nuzzled the dark gold curls beneath his nose. Draco was half-hard already. "Glad we're still only seventeen." A soft laugh came from somewhere above his head as he turned his attention to this new task. He brought one hand to Draco's balls, cradling them with a soft rolling motion as he began to flick his tongue along the underside of Draco's cock, then licking the head in wide broad sweeps. He sat up a bit to change his angle and slid his mouth down over Draco as far as he could go. When he swallowed, Draco writhed under him and moaned something unintelligible. It could have been curse or benediction, but it made no difference to Ron.

He slid his lips back up Draco's shaft, finally letting the tip slip out of his mouth. There was something sticky on Draco's thigh, clinging to Ron's cheek, and he leaned down to lick it away. "I do not want to know how you got watermelon on your thighs, Malfoy," he said softly.

Draco's legs fell open as Ron began to kiss his inner thighs. "I blame you," Draco panted. "It has to be your fault."

"Probably," Ron said agreeably, continuing his work. He gently pressed Draco's legs further apart, sliding his hand from Draco's sac to his now-hard cock and stroking in rhythm with the swipes of his tongue. Ron worked his way upward from Draco's knees. Soon, he'd pushed Draco's legs apart as far as he could, and his lips had found the crease between thigh and hip. He lifted Draco's balls out of the way and pressed a soft kiss to the fragile skin behind them.

Draco whimpered at this, bending his knees to give Ron better access. Ron grinned and kissed him again, dragging the tip of his tongue back as far as he could reach. Draco moved past whimpers and directly into high needy whines.

"Roll over," Ron whispered. Draco obeyed promptly, pillowing his head on his arms and bending his knees. "You didn't happen to grab that sun cream, did you?"

Draco reached out and scrabbled into the sleeping bags, then tossed the tube to Ron. "We can Obliviate the part where I went back to get that, all right?"

Ron laughed as he squeezed the thick white cream onto his fingers. It smelled like beaches and coconuts. Mixed with the watermelon scent still in the air and their own muskiness, it was enough to push Ron nearly over the edge. "Nobody's getting Obliviated, Draco. You can't tell me you want to forget this."

Draco's response was lost in a deep gasp as Ron's creamy fingers found their target. He reached around and took Draco's cock in his other hand, also slick with sun cream. Both hands stroked as Draco thrashed, babbling nonsense interspersed with a few words that Ron recognized: more, yes, Ron, now, please, need.

At the last, Ron released Draco's cock and grasped his own, careful not to come at the oily sensation of the cream. He shuffled closer on his knees and settled his hands on Draco's hips. Before he could mutter a warning, Draco pushed back onto him. Ron reached for Draco's cock again, gripping it firmly. "Stop, Draco, unless you want this to end now."

Draco thrust back again. Ron shrugged and pushed in, setting up a rhythm between hips and hand that soon had Draco in near-sobs as he first pushed into Ron's hand and then back onto his cock. It was all Ron could do to remain on his knees without falling over, since Draco appeared determined to do most of the work.

Too soon for both of them, Draco tipped over the edge, spurting into Ron's greased hand. The waves of his orgasm made him tighten around Ron, who braced both hands on Draco's hips and set a faster pace as he chased his own release. As he came, they both tipped over onto the sleeping bags. Ron held Draco's hips until the last shudders had passed, then slipped out of him and curled close.

Draco reached out for his wand and cast a sleepy _Scourgify_.

"What, magical cleaning? Here I thought you were devoted to your work, Malfoy." Ron smiled against Draco's shoulder.

"Muggle sun cream?" The disgust in Draco's voice was obvious. "Do you know what's in that stuff, Weasley?" He dragged one of the sleeping bags over them both and snuggled close against Ron. "I'll Obliviate you in the morning," he said quietly.

"Nope," Ron said. "I'll Obliviate you if you want, though."

Draco turned, enough to see Ron's face in the darkened tent. "Not really." He leaned closer, hesitantly. "If it's to be the only time, I'd like to remember it."

Ron slid his hand down Draco's arm, knitting their fingers together. "I would too." He rested his forehead against Draco's. "And I hope it won't be only the once."

Draco's lips curved into a smile as he kissed Ron softly. "Go to sleep, Weasley. We've got to Apparate home in the morning and explain this all to Potter."

"He won't be too surprised," Ron said after a while. "But let's take him some watermelon, just in case."


End file.
